Death's Kiss
by began-to-climb
Summary: FD3. Death is coming for them and now Wendy and Kevin have to make sure their there for one another before they're safe oneshot


**Name: **Death's Kiss

**Rating: **PG-13 (for violence and a couple curses)

**Summary: **Kevin always had a thing for his best friend's girlfriend, Wendy, but never acted on it. When the horrific accident that killed their friends, both vulnerable souls searched for a way out of Death's hands. Sometimes the ones that need the most saving are the ones most in control.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. They belong to those who created the story.

**Authors Note: **In the novelization of the FD3, Kevin and Wendy developed feelings for each other (typical, but…). This is basically a re-telling of two scenes in the movie, dialogue and everything duplicated, but it will be tweaked to display their affection for one another. I haven't read the book so I don't know how they designed the romance.

XXXX

The engine of the old blue truck rumbled, vibrating the floorboard under Kevin Fischer's feet as he swiftly turned the steering wheel to straighten the automobile to enter the fast food drive-in, the hiss of the car muffled by the traffic intersection at the base of the hill behind them. The broad board displaying the entire menu appeared on Kevin's left side, sending off the infinite choice of greasy food items left for the world to consume called Butchie's Burgers. Kevin rolled the truck to a slow halt behind a small yellow car whose driver amiably chatted with the woman working the first window, completely oblivious to the line behind him.

Kevin ignored the food and glanced at the brunette beside him. "You got 'em?" he asked, rubbing his hands together in a greedy anticipation.

Wendy Christensen dug into her messenger bag and pulled out a pile of glossy pictures, plopping them in between the two teenagers. "Yeah, right…" she trailed off, heaving the couple words in a breath. She flipped through them quickly, her pupils scurrying as she fished for the correct picture. "Here's Frankie's picture."

Kevin eagerly took the picture from Wendy's hands, the sleekness of the glass texture slipping over the pads of his fingers. He held it out where both occupants were able to equally survey the background. They were primarily searching for clues or hints at when the next death in the string of "accidental" occurrences that had already claimed the lives of people they knew. If they were correct about what they were looking for then something in the picture would tell them what would happen to the next predicted victim. Wendy prayed that they would get to the man in time; she couldn't let herself think about the guilt that would be added to her conscious if someone else died.

Kevin's eyes roved over the photo, flicking for something other than the obvious. "Well, this is obvious." he stated. "He's falling off a ladder."

Wendy pointed at the ladder he was referring to. "A _rope_ ladder. Maybe he might hang."

As the words spilled out of her lips, the two exchanged a look. The gravity of the suggestion strained on them both. Ever since the accident at the carnival everything had been different. Wendy lived with a constant guilt over her boyfriend and best friend, telling herself that she hadn't done more to get them off that roller coaster. She wanted another chance, to somehow rewind the clock and convince them both to skip the ride. But time was not expandable like that. She had gotten herself and Kevin off that ride, true, but what if she had done more? People died and survived because of her. And now, just like six years ago, the survivors of the ride, those like Kevin, were dying in the order of the original plan. Death's Design, they had called it. It sent chills down Wendy's spine. Two women had already died and there were more to go. Death wasn't finished yet, not until all of them were obliterated.

"Or…maybe it's not that literal." Wendy said slowly, rediscovering her voice once again. Kevin crossed his arms over the steering wheel, his hands draping over the edge, allowing Wendy to take back the picture for further evaluation. "Could there be any surprises?"

"Oh, like he's going to get crushed by a giant Sponge Bob?" Kevin said. He paused, a thought dawning on him. A larger SUV pulled up behind them, pinning them in between two cars. "Hey, Sponge Bob lives under water."

Wendy flashed him a dumb look, realizing that he was intently serious about this statement. "It's so sad that you know that." Kevin dropped his hand into his lap, giving her a 'shut up' look. "All right, he won that tacky mud-flat chain thing on this game so aren't those usually those eighteen-wheelers?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"I don't see any in this picture anywhere though."

The man driving behind them held his hand up to his wife, gesturing violently to get his attention centered back on her, and tilted his head. His face grew red, the voices of his angry wife and the impatience that boiled in his gut swirling in his mind, impairing his judgement. He jabbed the horn with his palm, pounding into it several times. The obnoxious horn blared each time, fading in the distance.

Wendy and Kevin simultaneously looked back, incredulous at the man's crudeness. "All right." Kevin said, his tone irritated.

He hit the steering wheel as he pressed the gear into drive and inched forward, arriving at the first window. He rolled down the window, Wendy glancing in the rear view to watch the marital actions of the couple arguing behind them. She shook her head; they wouldn't notice anything at that point since they were so absorbed in their fight.

"Can I take your order?" the voice of a young gentleman echoed from the box.

"Yeah." Kevin turned to Wendy. This was his offering, his form of comfort in her fragile state that had teetered her towards this obsession with the claim of lives. She'd nearly fainted in the cemetery and had admitted that her memory didn't permit her to remember the last time she'd eaten; she needed food. "What do you want?"

Wendy didn't answer. She stared beyond Kevin, trained on the digital screen that had a phrase written to advertise their product. A line of static rolled over the screen, buzzing in a frying wail. Kevin heard and looked at it curiously then back to Wendy. Her face was blank, contorted in concentration as she continued to watch the screen with attentiveness. His brows furrowed; what did she see?

He reached his hand out. "What? You okay?" he asked.

A large truck used for transporting large items, beeping in warning, slowly backed closer to the two, the tires swerved towards them to incline in that direction, but they remained oblivious. Wendy watched as a line on the screen was suddenly highlighted in blue, the three words changing to yellow lettering, then the first word vanished. 'Of your' was left on the line, the addition 'control' gone in the blink of any eye. It no longer read "control of your," the phrase left incomplete. The truck's beeping grew heavier and heavier in the air, stealing their attention. They whirled around, abandoning the other coincidence, squirming as it inched closer and closer.

A flash of blue lettering caught Wendy's eye; the numbers of Kevin's radio began to rapidly change, ascending higher and higher into the hundreds. "Please tell me there's a short in your wires."

Kevin played with the dial, punching some buttons meant to switch stations, but the numbers proceeded to move without control, descended in to the nineties. Wendy glanced out her window and instantly inhaled sharply, straightening in her seat. That truck was really close, too close. Do the drivers not notice? Wendy felt Kevin's hand on her arm; he gently tugged on her coat sleeve, the crisp cuff of his dress shirt underneath the black jacket cutting across the denim.

"Come here." Kevin said gingerly, eyeing the truck with caution. Wendy carefully slid closer to Kevin, moving out of the range of any collision, the young man's grip on her arm tightening. "That guy is way too close to my truck."

Wendy lurched from the hold and stuck her upper body out of the window. Her bottom lip impaled between her chin and her teeth, she beat on the black ramp and it halted half a foot away. Had they heard? Or were they just pausing?

"You're too close man!" Kevin yelled. "Pull up! Hey!"

Wendy pounded it one last time. Music started to filter out of the radio, crackling into disoriented racket as the stations were switched. Neither had touched the dial. The truck again began to back up, the black metal hitting Wendy's door. The crunch as steel collided with steel was deafening, the door scrunching into multiple dents.

"Watch out!" Kevin shouted, pulling Wendy to him instinctively.

Holding her yelp, she launched backward to escape harm's hands, her feet extending to put distance between the object and herself. Kevin protectively enclosed her in his arms. Wendy heard him curse against her ear, but her eyes have caught a terrifying sight barreling towards them. The red, white, and blue moving truck that they had nearly scrapped against on their journey down the vast hill was now speeding down the hill, swerving and pushing to opposite sides. The driver chased it, yelling and waving his arms to catch the attention of any other motorists or pedestrians.

"Get out! Get out!" Wendy screamed, forgetting the truck and sliding across the seat to her door.

Kevin followed her lead and tried to open her door. His door barely opened an inch before falling closed; the concrete of the building pinned the door closed. He looked to Wendy. She couldn't get out either because of the truck. They were trapped inside the car, the run-away truck flying down to them.

"What?" Kevin asked, realizing he had no idea why we supposed to be moving. Had he only done what she had said in that hysterical moment because he trusted her now that she had saved his life?

"Behind us." Wendy said quickly. Kevin looked behind them, over the bed of the truck, and across the street. His eyes widened alarmingly. "There's no one in the truck!"

The truck rampaged down the hill. It tilted in their direction.

"Oh shit!" Kevin yelped, panicking. "Hey! Pull up, man. Pull up!" He honked at the driver of the little yellow car, but the man merely raised his arm and flipped Kevin off.

Each door pinned, disabling them from escaping the conventional way, Wendy beat on the glass window behind her, her mouth open in a wide scream. The couple, parallel to one another as they raged out their aggressions to one another, have yet to notice the run-away truck. They have yet to notice death coming for their lives. Yet some part of Wendy knew that Death didn't want the couple; it wanted her and Kevin. A new addition to its collection.

"Back up! Back up!" Wendy shrieked frantically, her voice catching for a second. Her body surged with fear as the truck stampeded closer, drawing them closer to death. And no one noticed except for them.

The truck suddenly jumped the curb and flew through the intersection, just barely missing a beat-up Cadillac. A car swerved, spinning in a tight circle, the tires screeching on the pavement. A black circle imprinted into the dark road. Finally, the man driving the SUV behind Kevin and Wendy saw the rogue truck and hastily reversed, steam risen from the tires sudden veracity. Kevin grabbed Wendy, covering her body with his.

"Watch out." he instructed forcefully.

Wendy buried her head in chest, a handful of his shirt clenched in her hand, and felt the jolt of his muscles as he kicked the windshield once, then twice. Large spirals of cracks appeared on the glass, holding firm instead of shattering over the hood. The truck entered the parking lot of Butchie's Burgers. Kevin pushed the windshield so it popped out of place and fell over the hood then ushered Wendy out. They hurried in a deep scramble, stumbling over their feet.

"Come on. Let's go. Come on!" Kevin commanded.

He held Wendy's elbow. The truck slammed into the bed of the truck at the same moment they jumped off the hood. They tumbled onto the pavement, falling into a heap amongst broken glass and debris, their arms over their heads to shield themselves of flying remnants. Chunks of brain splattered on them, covering them in shots of blood.

Wendy coughed, the collision smoke creeping into her lungs, and slowly sat up, surveying the scene. Kevin's truck was crushed into a sliver between the larger truck and yellow convertible. The head of the drivers lolled to the side, contorted so that it's nearly unrecognizable. Kevin's fingers retracted from their frozen claw. A cold tangible metal met his fingertips. He rolled onto his side as he leveled up and picked up the object, the chain lacing between his fingers. A silver woman, posed in a classic chest upheaval, dangled from the chain, the silver tint coated with blood. It fell from Kevin's fingers. Wendy choked.

Kevin and Wendy stood, steadying themselves on shaking legs, and waited for a second. They had to regain their strength and their reality. Wendy felt everything come down on her. She'd nearly died. What would have happened if they hadn't been spared, neither of them? She looked at Kevin, the bridge of her nose beginning to sting ferociously as tears rimmed her eyes, hoping to beckon something out of herself, something to comfort them both. Except he was inching towards the yellow car. Wendy trailed behind him, trying to confirm the dead man.

She knew, but she needed proof. Frankie's corpse hunched over in the driver's seat.

Unexpectedly, the fan that split into Frankie's skull and chunk of the head fell off, tumbling into the front seat. Wendy gasped, the tears springing down her cheeks, and her hand cupped her mouth to keep from screaming. Kevin stared at the car, unable to completely gratify the situation. Frankie. They were right. He was the next one. Kevin snapped his eyes shut and pulled Wendy away. She couldn't see this. She didn't need to see this.

He held her, one arm looped around her back and other hand clutching her head to his chest, and let her cry, soaking his shirt. She cradled his arm. How could this happen? Why were they chosen to survive? Why had they been chosen to have premonitions and to fight Death? What made them so special? Kevin tried to soothe Wendy, shushing her, but it didn't help her.

Why them?

XXXX

Wendy's room was dark, the window shutters snapped closed and the lamps on the hard surfaces switched off except for a few nearest the desk. A lamp, the neck extended over the surface, burned over the couple stationed in front of the laptop, pillaging through an endless roll of pictures for the school's yearbook. The brunette intently propped her elbows on the desk's edge while her partner, a jock stripped of a funeral jacket, slouched in the chair. He raked his hand through his short hair.

Two hours after the travesty witnessed at a burger joint, Kevin and Wendy were shut away in the room, snuggled up to the desk to flip through the pictures saved on the laptop. After the accident they had talked to the officers from the back of an ambulance as the paramedics tended to their minor cuts and gashes. The coroner's truck wheeled away Frankie's corpse buried under a white sheet, the gurney sliding into the back of the van.

Were they wrong? They had bickered about a rope ladder that threw Frankie off, yet a fan from a truck murdered the older man. Were they reading the signs wrong? Or were these silly patterns that they were falsely identifying to ease their sorrow? Kevin tried to convince Wendy that something was happening and if she gave up then the rest of them had no chance. _I'm not the total idiot you think I am. _Willful ignorance, he called it. As Wendy tugged her coat tighter over her body, walking through her neighborhood to her home, they agreed to take a second look at all the pictures. If they were lucky then they would be able to see something, anything that could save the next victim.

"Okay, it was Louis after Frankie." Wendy explained. A hand waved in front of the camera, the motion of the movement caught in multiple printings of the limb. Kevin leaned closer. "Then Ian and Erin."

"What is—there's a couple kids behind him." Kevin gestured over the screen, pointing towards a row of teenagers in the background. "But I can't make them out. His arm's in the way. Can you?"

Wendy shook her head. "No." she muttered.

Kevin sighed. "All right. We'll ask Louis, Ian, and Erin if they remember. Okay?" He paused, scratching the back of his neck. "Are there any more pictures from the roller coaster?"

Wendy clicked the mouse to transfer pictures, rummaging through the roll, passing through clown bobble-heads and a shot of Ian and Erin shrinking away from the flash of the camera. Then it landed on a shot of Wendy. She stopped. A silence fell over them. Her boyfriend, Jason, had stolen the digital and turned the lens on her, playfully demanding like a rowdy photographer to pose. She'd risen her shoulder and rested her chin on her shoulder, smiling girlishly while her eyes were focused on the sky above her. Her brown hair cloaked her cheek, hiding her smooth skin, the waves hiding. It was meant to be a dramatic flirt, but it looked more childish. Wendy rolled her eyes, hand hovered over the mouse to continue.

Kevin stopped her. "You look really pretty in that picture." he confessed.

Wendy felt heat rise to her cheeks, ascending into a faint blush. "I don't."

Kevin looked at her, his body leaned forward. "You always are."

Wendy tilted her head to the right, searching for an answer to the sudden affection. She'd never known him to be fond of her at all, but lately…it was different. Many things were. If it hadn't been for Jason and Carrie, his girlfriend, they wouldn't have ever hung out, but now they rarely left one another's sight. Why had she blushed? She couldn't like him in that way, could she? No, it was too soon. Right after Jason, no. And it was Kevin. He was just this loud jock that was Jason's best friend and nothing more. He didn't care for her and her for him. Then again, today he had displayed more concern for her well being than for himself. He'd gotten her out first. Did he…? The thought made her smile.

She was yanked back to reality when she realized how close they were to one another. Her hair curtained her right cheek, she stared at Kevin as he slowly leaned in. He hooked her chin gently and kissed her lightly. It was a feather over velvet, barely long enough to feel it. He drew back and waited for her reaction. Her eyes quivered. Why had he done that?

"I have to take care of you." he whispered on her lips.

She cupped his cheek and kissed him again, holding him to her to relish the feel of his lips on hers. Her eyelashes fluttered open, eyes meeting his. "I'm a big girl. You don't have to hold my hand."

"I know." _Keep an eye on her for me. _

A sudden flash of what had gotten them all thrown off the carnival ride surfaced in his mind. Louis had something and Kevin had fought with him, adding Ian in when Louis had accidentally slapped Erin.

"Why did you fight Louis? Before the crash." she asked, eyes narrowing.

Kevin hesitated. Why had he? "Louis said something about you. It wasn't right. He shouldn't have. He had no right to say that about you."

"So…you got into a fight for me?"

"Yes." He dropped his hand and groaned, weighing the consequence of words if he said them. Was the price too high or worth the bankruptcy? "I like you, Wendy."

Wendy stared at him. Was that why? He liked her? Was that were this sudden affection and protectiveness came from? "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

Kevin shrugged. "You were dating my best friend then I dated your best friend. What could I do?"

Wendy didn't reply. A silence blanketed them. His confession rung heavy. She rubbed her hands together, slipping them between her knees momentarily. "She was going to break up with you." Kevin glanced at her. "Carrie."

"Figures. Did she tell you why?"

She thinks—thought you were too rowdy. A loud jerk, something like that."

"And what do you think?"

"I think it's all for show. I don't think that's who you are."

"But you don't like me, remember?" Kevin mentioned with a smile.

"Would have I have kissed you if I didn't?"

Kevin studied her countenance, wondering if he was serious. She was. He smiled, nodding slightly, and ventured closer to her. They returned to work, going through more pictures. Kevin's hand rested casually on Wendy's leg. They passed Frankie's portrait until they found the raunchy sneak-peak of a girl named Stacy that Kevin had decided to flash for a laugh. He grimaced, retracting his hand out of embarrassment. Wendy looked at him and smiled, patting his knee. He massaged his temple. Wendy examined the picture, a lurcher catching her eye in the background. Frankie stood behind Stacy, talking to someone. A whirling fan spun behind him, the angle making it look like it was embedded in his head.

"No, wait. Look…behind Stacy." Wendy pointed out. Kevin propped his head up on his fingers. "It's Frankie. This picture shows how he died."

Kevin straightened, fully seeing the elaborate picture painted for him. "Go back to Louis."

Wendy maneuvered the arrow to the sidebar where all the pictures were minimized to display them all and clicked on Louis' picture. Louis was hunched over, the number on his football jersey expanded, throwing down the hammer and causing the bell to fly upward.

"Okay, he's got that hammer." Wendy licked her lips. "The weight looks like it's coming down on his head."

"No, check this out. Right now Louis is down state at football training camp. State's team is the Sulfurs. That's it, that's the clue." Kevin argued, looking at the sign in the background.

Wendy watched him react with his enthusiastic roll then looked back to the screen. "We have to tell him. Show him these pictures." She glanced at Kevin and noticed he had frozen. He looked alert. "Wouldn't you want to know?"

He stayed quiet, as if his brain won't permit him to think or to speak. "There's pictures of us in there?"

"Yeah." Wendy verified, barely audible. "Yeah, of course."

"No. No." Kevin abruptly stood. "I don't want to see mine."

He stalked towards the door and Wendy turned in the wooden chair to watch. "What about willful ignorance?"

Kevin opened his arms. "I'm full of shit, okay? Not about what I said to you earlier, but generally yeah." His limbs fell to his side. "I never thought I could see my own death before it happened to me." He paused. "No, you know what? We can tell Louis, but, seriously, if there's any way we can beat this thing than I gotta stay focused and if I look at that picture all I'm going to do is obsess, so…Know what, no, I don't want to see them."

He grabbed his jacket draped over a chair in the corner and bundled it in his arms. Wendy didn't say anything. "I mean, unless we _have_ to."

Wendy gingerly stood, testing his emotional levels, and fitted herself in front of him. "You mean _until_ we have to."

Kevin left a response open. His hand poised on his hip, he smashed his lips together then turned towards the door. Wendy followed, tired of battling with him but not wanting this one to end so quickly. He can't just walk away. She opened her mouth to say something, but then he turned at the doorframe.

"One more thing." he said.

He slipped his arms around her waist and kissed her passionately. She melted in the kiss, hand clasped on the back of his neck, returning the kiss. Her legs buckled. He licked her bottom lip and she granted entrance, massaging his tongue when his entered her mouth. He parted, giving them time to breathe, and pressed his forehead to hers. His arms locked around her waist.

"Just incase." he breathed, closing his eyes.

"Let's hope there won't be an incase." Wendy replied.

She sniffed. A tremble stretched through her body. "Are you all right? You're trembling?"

She shook her head, her hand venturing down his arm. "I don't want to die." she admitted, her voice breaking in her throat.

"Hey." Kevin cupped her face, making her look him in the eye. "You won't. I won't let that happen."

"You can't say that. What if we don't survive?"

"We will. We can intervene, right?" Wendy nodded, bowing her head to hide her delicate tears. "Then I'll intervene as much as possible for us to be okay. So we'll be safe."

Wendy nodded again. Kevin gently kissed her forehead, her lips parting in a sharp exhale at the touch. Death is cruel and kills those we love, but sometimes love saves those in dire need. Sometimes love can save us all.

XXXX

FIN


End file.
